


honey, you’re familiar, like my mirror years ago

by angejolras



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, F/M, Tropes abound, if this mess even counts as that lol, the usual cliché breakup before she can tell him she's pregnant au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 12:25:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19790851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angejolras/pseuds/angejolras
Summary: Éponine straightens back up, combing her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tame it. First things first. She should probably be getting ready to tell Enjolras. She’s thinking of doing something cheesy. She could surprise him with a little baby onesie. Maybe even a little cupcake—red velvet, his favourite. She’s dizzy, giddy. They’re having ababy. Life can’t seem to get any more perfect right now.And then of fuckingcourseher whole world has to implode.





	honey, you’re familiar, like my mirror years ago

**Author's Note:**

> okay this is a bit of a mess and all over the place in terms of plot and pacing, but i liked how it turned out, for the most part, so have this!! it was a little idea that wouldn't go away so i started writing and i got........ a little carried away. to say the least. lmao
> 
> i've been crying a lot today because they're making the STUPID-ASS decision to get rid of the original staging of les mis once and for all in the west end, and i will never ever _ever_ forgive the people involved in the making of that decision until they bring it back, if that even ever happens. but that's beside the point. maybe y'all are as pissed about it as i am. perhaps this can lighten the mood. or not. idk lol :P
> 
> title taken from "from eden" by our lord and saviour andrew john hozier-byrne. coincidentally, my husband once sang this in concert. [it's sexy as fuck.](https://youtu.be/WrMbQE6kRwI)

Éponine’s certain she has it all—financial stability, incredible friends, and a decent job, not to mention a perfect best friend/boyfriend of two years. Only twenty-four, and she already has her life on track, while living in fucking _New York City_ , no less. Montparnasse and the countless others who told her she wouldn’t make it in the world can suck it.

She’s sitting out on the fire escape of her apartment building now, watching the people below as she nurses a bottle of dessert wine, gifted to her from Grantaire. Greenwich Village has been her home for God knows how long now; she’s somehow managed to pay the rent over these past two years. She’s rather young for a high school counsellor, but the pay’s alright. Enough to make ends meet, at the very least. She contents herself with that.

A rush of cool air breezes past her, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end, and she shivers slightly, taking another small swig of wine as the cool spring wind engulfs her, gone almost as soon as it came. Glancing at her phone, she considers calling Grantaire, tell him to come over. What with how Enjolras is away, having gone back down to Georgia for a few days to visit his parents.

“Well, look at what the cat dragged in!”

Éponine looks down, and a grin slowly stretches across her face. Turns out she hadn’t needed to call Grantaire after all. He always seems to show up on his own.

He’s standing on the pavement below, grasping a leash and waving wildly at her. His pet Yorkie, Toby, seems rather disgruntled, inconvenienced by how Grantaire’s dragged him out there just to pay a visit to Éponine, and she resists a snort. “Are you coming up or what?” she yells, cocking her head.

Grantaire grins and goes to scramble up the ladder of the fire escape, somehow managing to carry Toby in his arms at the same time, finding his spot beside Éponine and plopping down with Toby in his lap. Without so much as another word, he grabs the wine bottle from Éponine, taking an enormous swig and letting out an unceremonious burp afterwards. Éponine shoves him.

“You could’ve asked, asshole,” she tells him with a dramatic roll of her eyes. Grantaire sniggers.

“How’ve you been, babe?” He leans back against the red brick, putting his hands behind his head and letting out a contented sigh. Éponine gags at the B.O. stench that comes drifting out, shoving him again.

“Put your arms down, nobody wants to smell that. You nasty.”

Grantaire sticks his tongue out at her but does as she tells him to anyway, stroking Toby’s fur rather absent-mindedly. “So, how’ve you been?”

Éponine shrugs. “Fine. Spring break for the students just started. So, free time for me.”

“And how’s the boyfriend?” Grantaire wiggles his eyebrows, evoking a snort from Éponine.

“He’s _fine_ ,” she informs him. “But he’s in Georgia until Wednesday.” She glances back through the window into her apartment, jutting out her bottom lip in a slight pout. “So It’ll be just me and my vibrator until then, I guess.”

Grantaire pummels her in the arm, making a face. “Gross. Way TMI.”

Éponine just rolls her eyes and laughs.

They sit there in silence for another while, taking turns with the bottle until it’s considerably lighter as they watch the world go by. Pedestrians shouting. Dogs barking. Cars honking. It’s a symphony of chaos.

Éponine leans her head against Grantaire’s shoulder, pouting slightly, just the teensiest bit tipsy. Grantaire’s head plonks back against hers as he asks rather distractedly, “So when are you and Enj going to move in together?”

Éponine shrugs, rather dismissive. “Who knows. One day, probably. We’re not in any rush.” She sighs. “My life’s fucking perfect right now.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Grantaire tells her, uncharacteristically serious.

Éponine scoffs. God, he can be so superstitious sometimes. “You know I don’t believe in that shit.”

“I’m just saying.” Grantaire settles back in, biting his lip. “You never know what could happen.”

Éponine presses her lips tightly together. “ _Nothing_ bad will happen. I’m sure.”

Oh, she’s going to find out just how fucking wrong she is.

* * *

Éponine waits at the airport terminal, searching through the throngs of new arrivals for a glimpse of that familiar head of golden hair. Enjolras has been texting her updates since he first landed, his latest text consisting of him telling her that he’s currently waiting for his luggage to come along on the baggage carousel. She’s at the front of the crowd, craning her neck, scanning the masses for the slightest glimpse, when her phone buzzes in her back pocket.

She takes it out, heart leaping at the text that’s just come in from Enjolras.

**pretty boy [red heart emoji] [peach emoji]: I’ve gotten my baggage, I’ll be out in a bit. :)**

She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet by the time he emerges from the crowd, sprinting towards him before she launches herself into his arms, legs hooking around his waist with a shouting laugh of “Gabriel!” Enjolras laughs and stumbles back, steadying himself just in time to wrap his arms around her and bury his face in her neck, breathing in her scent. Éponine finally draws back, giggling and leaning in to press her forehead to his.

“I missed you,” she murmurs, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his curls. And she had. She’d missed everything about him, from his crinkly-eyed smile to his stupidly attractive laugh to that cute Southern accent of his.

Enjolras smiles. “I missed you, too.”

Éponine ruffles his hair. “How was Georgia?”

Enjolras shrugs. “It would have been nicer if you’d been around. I missed you, love.”

Éponine grins and closes the gap between them, pressing her lips to his and sighing at how he instantly reciprocates, though she notes there’s something more restrained about the way he kisses her now. She’s going to make sure that changes soon enough.

Éponine pulls back, jumping down and gazing up at him, the look in her eyes somewhat suggestive. “Do you want to go back to my place?”

Her lips quirk into the tiniest smirk at how Enjolras’ eyes darken, quickly catching her drift. “Come on.”

A couple of train rides later, they’re back in Éponine’s apartment building, stumbling up the stairs and into her apartment, taking just the shortest amount of time to lock the door behind themselves before she jumps him again, lips capturing his. They barely make it to the bedroom.

Three frantic, _amazing_ rounds later, Éponine collapses against Enjolras’ chest, feeling how rapidly his heart pounds underneath her as she struggles to regain her breath. She sighs, content, and gazes up at him, eyebrows creasing at the vaguely conflicted look on his face.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly, reaching up to cup his jaw.

Enjolras laughs, though there’s something off about it. “I’m okay.”

He wraps his arms tighter around her, pulling her close underneath the blankets. Éponine runs her hand up and down his bare torso, absently tracing his abs as he strokes her hair. “You’ve just…” Éponine hesitates, biting her lip.

“I’ve just what?” Enjolras prompts lightly, gazing down at her.

Éponine shrugs, searching for the words. “You’ve just seemed a little off since you got back is all.” She looks up at him again, resting her chin on his chest as she asks, “Did something happen with your parents while you were down there?”

Enjolras shakes his head quickly. A little too quickly, though Éponine doesn’t read into that much. He’s never given her a reason to read into his actions too much. He’s great like that. “No, it’s just… I’m probably just having an off day. That’s all.”

Éponine cracks a smile and pulls herself up to press her lips to his. “Well, I’m always here if you want to talk.”

Enjolras closes his eyes and smiles against her lips. “I know. I love you.”

Éponine breath hitches momentarily. She just kisses him harder. “I love you, too.”

He breathes out a little laugh. “What do you think about moving in together?”

She almost can’t kiss him again, she’s smiling so hard. “I’d love that.”

* * *

Éponine doesn’t realise she’s missed her period by two whole weeks until the morning sickness starts.

She’s kneeling before the toilet, clutching the toilet bowl as she retches, the acid splashing up her windpipe. Tears leak out of the corners of her eyes at the strain, her throat on fire, nauseous at the foul scent of vomit. It’s been happening on and off for the past few days or so. She’s beginning to think she might have contracted some sort of stomach bug.

Once she’s emptied her stomach—or at least, she hopes she has, she hates dry-heaving into the toilet—she sits back up, falling back against the cold tile of the bathroom wall. Weakly, she brings her phone up to glance at the time. It’s the date that winds up catching her eye.

_May 31st._

Éponine reads the date once, twice, three times. Her eyes widen, two parts surprised, one part alarmed.

She’s late. _Extremely_ late.

Her period’s hardly ever late. Let alone _two fucking weeks_ late.

Add that to the fact that she hasn’t been able to keep anything down in the past few days, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s happening to her.

Éponine stumbles to her feet, grabbing a cup by the sink and pouring herself a glass of water in an attempt to quench the nausea. She glances at herself in the mirror—her thick hair’s a tangled mess, eyes bloodshot, some dried vomit staining her lips. She swipes some tissues under running water before wiping at her mouth, tossing them into the bin afterwards. She looks in the mirror again, taking a deep breath.

_It’s okay. You’ll figure things out. It’ll be okay._

Looks like she’ll be picking up a few pregnancy tests during her impromptu trip to the store.

Twenty minutes and three bottles of Sprite later, Éponine finds herself pacing back and forth in that tiny space in front of the bathroom counter, sucking in deep breaths, forcing herself to breathe in and out. She glances at the timer on her phone every thirty seconds or so, anxious to see the results.

The timer goes off. Time for the moment of truth.

She squeezes her eyes shut and inhales sharply before slowly opening them, laying eyes on the four different pregnancy tests spread out on the bathroom counter. Her breath catches in her throat.

All four of them are positive.

The one digital pregnancy test reads ‘positive’, the other three with two bright pink lines on each that seem to jump out at her. Éponine’s knees buckle beneath her.

She grips the edge of the bathroom counter to keep herself from collapsing completely, feeling tears coming to her eyes. She bows her head, letting the tears fall, and, insanely, she finds herself laughing, giggling rather hysterically to herself as she lifts her head back up, shaking, glancing at herself in the mirror. She only laughs even more at the sight of herself, eyes slightly mad, but _happy_ , perhaps irrationally so.

Call her crazy. But she realises she’s happy, goddamn _delighted_ to find out she’s pregnant. Sure, the baby wasn’t planned. She and Enjolras aren’t married. They’re not even engaged. But _God_ , that isn’t an issue to her right now. The only thing that matters is that they’re happy.

Éponine straightens back up, combing her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tame it. First things first. She should probably be getting ready to tell Enjolras. She’s thinking of doing something cheesy. She could surprise him with a little baby onesie. Maybe even a little cupcake—red velvet, his favourite. She’s dizzy, giddy. They’re having a _baby_. Life can’t seem to get any more perfect right now.

And then of fucking _course_ her whole world has to implode.

* * *

It’s a week after Éponine found out she’s pregnant, and Enjolras arrives at her place, rather nervous, if the way he fidgets with the hem of his shirt is anything to go by. Why _he’s_ nervous, Éponine has no idea, but she’s too consumed by her own anxieties to think up possibilities about why Enjolras is acting so jittery. She ushers him inside, flashing him a timid little grin, which he returns.

“I have something to tell you,” are the first words that come out of his mouth.

Éponine raises her eyebrows, surprised. “Really? _I_ have something to tell _you_.”

“Oh, really?” Enjolras’ eyes widen. “Well, you go first, then.”

Éponine scrunches up her face and smiles. “No, you.”

Enjolras chuckles. “Okay, then.”

He takes her hand, guiding her into her living room and sitting down on the sofa, Éponine following suit. Enjolras looks down into his lap, taking a deep breath before he looks up again and blurts out, “I got offered a law internship.”

Éponine’s mouth falls open just slightly before she closes it again. “Oh. That’s good! Isn’t it?”

Enjolras bites his lip, averting his gaze. “It’s in Georgia.”

With that, the smile falls from Éponine’s face. Her heart plummets. “Oh.”

“The pay is great,” Enjolras tries, his throat tightening at the look on Éponine’s face. “For an internship, anyway. It would be a fantastic learning experience for me. Who knows? I might even end up getting a job at that firm.”

Éponine’s vision is going blurry. She rapidly blinks back the tears. She cannot, _will not_ , allow herself to cry right now. “What—what about the law firms right here? I’m _sure_ there are some good ones. I mean, it’s New York fuckin’ City.” She lets out a crazy-sounding laugh, as if to try to prove her point.

Enjolras squeezes her hand. “One of my old professors got me this internship, ’Ponine. I can’t turn down this kind of opportunity.”

Éponine’s shaking her head, wild, pinching herself repeatedly, trying to convince himself that this is just a dream. This isn’t going how she’d hoped. He just came out of nowhere and dropped a fucking bomb on her.

Tears prick at the back of her eyes. Why hadn’t he told her about this before? Shouldn’t he talk to her about things as big as this?

“What about us?” Éponine cringes at how fucking clichéd she sounds right now, with her voice cracking on the last word as she pulls her hand away. She could give Troy Bolton a run for his money. “What about _me_ , Gabriel?”

Enjolras’ brow furrows, genuinely bewildered. “I just thought you might’ve wanted to come with me. We’ve been planning on moving in together soon, anyway, haven’t we?”

He reaches for her hand again, but to his shock, she snatches it back, inching backwards and moving away from his touch. Taken aback by her actions, Enjolras draws back, a chasm opening up between them.

“Gabriel.” Éponine laughs, rather desperate, almost scornful, before she snaps, “You do realise I have a _life_ here, right?” Her hands clench into fists in her lap. “I’ve got my siblings. I’ve got _friends_. A fucking _job_. I can’t—” She chokes on the lump forming in her throat. “I can’t just uproot my entire life. This is my _home_. New York is my home.”

“I know that,” Enjolras says gently. His tone of voice only makes Éponine feel worse. “But I just…” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to work through the thoughts muddled in his head. “Well, I thought… I thought you might have wanted to come with me. We love each other. I love you so, so much. I’d planned on spending my life with you.”

The anger that’s flared up inside Éponine deteriorates into sadness, utter heartbreak. “I _do_ love you, Gabriel,” she whispers, even more tears welling in her eyes. “But… you know this would be way different, right? There’s a huge fucking difference between you spending a few days or a week or something down there and actually _living_ there, while I’m still here.”

Enjolras pulls back, blinking, trying to process her words. “What are you saying?”

Éponine sucks in a trembling breath, and Enjolras can’t bear the sight of her on the verge of tears, because of him. “I’m saying that if you take this job, if you leave, then we’re done. I just…”

She’s so clearly fighting back the tears, and Enjolras longs to reach out and brush them away. He keeps himself from doing so; she’d scream at him about not wanting his pity.

Éponine’s voice breaks. “I _can’t_.”

Enjolras falls silent, blinking back the tears that he senses coming on. “Well, then, I guess we’re over,” he murmurs, subdued. “I _can’t_ turn down this opportunity, Éponine. I thought you, of all people, would have understood. But at any rate, I’m sorry.”

Éponine’s nearly paralysed, her body seeming to function as if on autopilot, with the way she mechanically gets up and goes to the end of the small hallway leading to the door, watching as he goes to put his shoes on. He’s just opened the door before he turns back, asking in a small voice, “So what was it you were about to tell me?”

Éponine shakes her head, brushing him off. Already shutting him out. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Enjolras gives her one last look, long, regretful, before he turns again and closes the door behind him.

Éponine’s barely registered that he’s leaving, he’s left, until she hears the slam of the door, and that’s when the floodgates open, sobs overtaking her. Tears stream down her cheeks as she cries herself hoarse, collapsing onto the floor, curling into herself and sobbing.

How did they manage to fuck things up so badly in such a small amount of time?

Éponine cries so violently, she makes herself sick, so she rushes to the bathroom, barely making it in time before she vomits the contents of that morning’s breakfast into the toilet.

But the burn in her throat is nothing compared to the pain seizing her broken heart whole.

Éponine sluggishly gets to her feet somewhere between five and ten minutes later, on autopilot once again, going to brush her teeth. She takes a good hard look at the woman staring back at her in the mirror—a dishevelled mess, hair tangled, mascara staining her cheeks, smudged around her bloodshot eyes. She gets that mascara cleaned up but doesn’t bother with the rest. It’s not like she has anyone to impress anymore.

Éponine takes in a deep, shaky breath. She’s going to keep the baby. She just won’t tell Enjolras about it. She’s just going to have to make do as a single mother. She’ll find a way.

Éponine looks down at her still-flat stomach, pressing a hand to her abdomen and heaving out a tired sigh. “Well,” she murmurs, “looks like it’s just you and me now, kiddo.”

Her voice drops to a whisper, and tears begin to well in her eyes again. “I’m going to be a good mommy. I promise.”

* * *

Enjolras can’t stop thinking about what it was Éponine could have possibly wanted to tell him all the way home.

He can’t stop thinking about it as he boards the plane that’ll take him from JFK down to Hartsfield a few weeks later.

He can’t stop thinking about it as he boards a taxi that’ll take him to his new apartment in downtown Atlanta, a few miles from his childhood home in the suburbs.

He can’t stop thinking about it as he opens a bottle of strawberry Smirnoff later that night in an attempt to get himself settled in, staring out the window at the streets of Atlanta, so much more subdued than those of Manhattan.

His phone buzzes then, and he looks down, almost hoping it’s a text from Éponine. Obviously, that isn’t the case.

**Combeferre: How’s Atlanta? Settling in alright? :)**

Enjolras musters a half-hearted smile at that, stowing his phone away in his back pocket. He’ll respond to Combeferre’s text later.

He takes a swig of the vodka and lets out a long-winded sigh. He misses Éponine already. So much.

He really did fuck up big time—maybe things would have been different if he’d just _talked_ to her, instead of dropping the bomb on her after he’d been accepted into the internship. Then again, maybe things would’ve wound up the same way. He’d been an idiot to think she would’ve actually just come with him. Not one of his best moments.

He misses her. So fucking much. It _hurts_.

He gazes off into the distance at the bright lights of the city, wistful. _I wonder what she’s up to right now._

* * *

It’s a frigid day around mid-January when Éponine gives birth to a beautiful baby girl after being in labour for about seventeen hours—not that she was counting, she was too dazed from the drugs. Azelma and Grantaire are by her side through it all, being the first two people who get to hold her after her mother.

Éponine watches Azelma hold the baby in her arms as Grantaire coos over her; she herself is completely exhausted, slumped back in the hospital bed. Azelma looks back up, gazing at her sister with wonder. “Oh, Ep, she’s gorgeous.”

Éponine musters a tired smile, saying unthinkingly, “Gets it from her daddy.”

The moment the words are out of her mouth, she regrets them.

Azelma and Grantaire look between themselves before they fix their gazes on Éponine, Grantaire’s brow furrowed in concern as Azelma gingerly asks, “So… are you ever going to tell him that he’s got a kid?”

Immediately, the smile vanishes from Éponine’s face. She reaches out instead, gesturing towards the baby girl. _Her_ baby girl. “Can I have my baby back?”

Azelma does as Éponine asks of her, handing the newborn back to her sister and leaning over her slightly to gaze at her. She’s got olive skin and little tufts of dark brown hair upon her teeny head, the exact same colour as her mother’s. Her eyes are still closed; they’ve yet to see what colour they are.

Grantaire sits down at the other side of the hospital bed, precariously close to falling off, with how his ass is practically hanging off the edge. “Have you picked out a name for her?” he asks quietly.

Éponine nods, gaze still fixed on her little girl, heart bursting at the sight of her. “Vivienne Claire Thénardier.” She grazes her thumb against the infant’s tiny lips, murmuring mostly to herself, “I think I’ll call her Vivi.”

Azelma laughs softly. “Little Vivi. I love it.”

“She’s lucky,” Grantaire muses. “She’s got such a great mom.”

Éponine sighs and nods. “I hope you’re right. I really, _really_ hope so.”

She bounces Vivi a little more in her arms, startling slightly when her eyes blink open and she lets out a yawn. Éponine gazes at her as she settles back into place, Vivi staring up at her curiously, and Éponine’s heart does an odd little tap dance at how blue her baby girl’s eyes are, brilliant, piercing, intelligent. _Exactly_ like her father’s, down to the shape.

The father her little girl’s going to have to grow up without.

Éponine’s breath catches, that familiar pang in her heart. It’s gone as soon as it came along, though—she’s determined not to dwell on Enjolras’ absence too much, instead going to throw herself into being the best goddamn mother she can be to this perfect little girl.

“Hi, Vivi,” she murmurs, leaning down to kiss Vivi’s forehead. “I’m your mommy.”

Éponine giggles rather tearfully at the way Vivi just stares up at her, wide-eyed and inquisitive. “This is your Auntie Zelma,” she tells her, turning the infant’s attention to Azelma before she points out Grantaire. “And this is your Uncle R.”

“Hi, baby Vivi,” Azelma coos, reaching out to touch her little cheek. Grantaire laughs at how Vivi chooses that exact moment to sneeze.

“I think she’s allergic to you,” he remarks, a teasing edge to his voice. Azelma reaches around Éponine to smack him in the arm.

“Can it, dickface,” she growls.

“I’m going to revoke your auntie privileges if you keep swearing around her,” Éponine says calmly, her gaze still fixed on Vivi.

Grantaire cackles at the outraged look on Azelma’s face. “You can’t do that! I’m her actual biological aunt!”

Éponine giggles to herself, transfixed by the sight of Vivi. Her perfect, beautiful little baby girl. She holds her closer to her chest, biting her lip.

She misses Enjolras. She misses him terribly. Not a day’s gone by during which she hasn’t thought of him, wondering what he’s up to right now.

At that very moment, Enjolras is coming home to an empty apartment in Atlanta from another dreary day at work, and every part of him misses Éponine.

There have been nights when he has a few drinks alone in his apartment, getting tipsy to the point where he considers calling Éponine, but even when he’s drunk he can’t forget some of her last words to him.

_If you leave, then we’re done._

And he did. Enjolras left. He made that decision, and with each day that passes, his mistake becomes more and more apparent. And it _kills_ him.

But it’s done. He’s made his bed. Now he’s got to lie in it.

_I miss her._

He’s unaware of the fact that at that very moment, Éponine’s thinking the same thing as he is, and they each go on with their lives. One day at a time.

* * *

It’s almost five years later when Éponine hears the words she thought she’d never hear in her life. Certainly not this soon, anyway.

 _“Enjolras is back,”_ Cosette informs her over the phone. _“He’s literally—he’s_ here _. He’s on his way to my apartment as we speak.”_

Éponine nearly spills her hot chocolate all over herself.

The news takes her by so much shock, she quickly places the Starbucks cup back on her desk before she vomits out her lunch into the bin by the door of her office. Thank _fuck_ it’s after hours at school. She won’t have nosy high school students coming in at the sound of her retching to ask, “Miss T, are you okay?”

(No, Miss T is decidedly _not_ okay.)

She’s collapsed back into her chair when Cosette speaks again. _“Eppy? You still there?”_

Éponine wipes at her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater, cringing at the discoloured stain it leaves behind. “Yeah. I just puked up everything in my stomach, s’all.”

There’s silence on the other end before Cosette sighs. _“Oh, Eppy. I know this isn’t the greatest news for you, but I didn’t think you’d react_ that _badly.”_

“Yeah. Tell me about it.” She hasn’t thrown up since her morning sickness days. Éponine Thénardier is generally a healthy person. Except when she finds out the father of her child is back in town. That’s far from easy on her stomach. “Is he, um—is he back for good? Like, permanently?”

 _“Yes.”_ Cosette smacks her lips at the other end. _“He found himself a job at a law firm in Manhattan. He asked if he could stay with Courfeyrac or Combeferre or even Feuilly, but none of them have any space left, so he’ll be staying with Marius and me for a few nights. He won’t be able to move into his new apartment until next Wednesday.”_

“Oh, shit,” Éponine curses, bringing her free hand up to cover her face. “He’s going to want to see me, isn’t he?”

_“He already asked about you. It was the first thing he asked about when he called me.”_

Éponine blushes something fierce, her cheeks burning, and she thanks her lucky stars she’s alone right now. “ _Fuck_ ,” she swears again.

 _“Yeah.”_ Cosette clicks her tongue at the other end. _“Also, Eppy? You know what day it is, right?”_

Éponine’s gaze trails to her desk calendar. It’s Friday. What’s so special about Fri— “Fuck! Y’all have Vivi right now!” she remembers aloud, cringing slightly at her use of y’all. Seems like some vocabulary quirks she picked up from Enjolras have never gone away. Marius always watches the four-year-old girl at his and Cosette’s place on Fridays, to allow Éponine some time to stay at school and finish up some work before going home for the weekend.

“Wait, uh—you said he’s coming to your place right now?”

_“Yeah.”_

“ _Shit_! He’s going to know she’s not yours, obviously!” Éponine rushes about her little office, cramming her things into her messenger bag before she gets to her feet and hastily pulls on her coat, putting on her newsboy cap. “I’m leaving the school. Be there in, what, twenty minutes?”

She’s not sure how she’ll make it from Manhattan to Queens in only twenty minutes, but fuck if she isn’t going to try to make it happen.

She sprints down the hallway, already halfway out the front doors of the school when Cosette says, _“He’s still around the airport, I think. You’ll probably get here before he does.”_

“Oh, I will,” Éponine vows. She hangs up the phone and fuckin’ books it to the Pontmercy-Fauchelevent apartment.

By the time she arrives at their fancy Queens condo, she’s drenched in sweat underneath all her layers and her feet in her boots are on fucking _fire_. She’s not exactly sure how she made it there so quickly, what with the icy pavements and her decreased mobility in all her winter layers. She doesn’t dwell on it, too impatient to wait for the elevator and instead sprinting up the stairs until she’s reached Cosette and Marius’ door.

She takes out the spare key they lend her on Fridays, letting herself in and calling out, “Hello?” as she takes off her coat to hang by the door. Seconds later, she hears the quick pitter-patter of tiny feet against the wood floors and Vivi comes crashing into her mother, nearly knocking Éponine over.

“Mommy!” she cries out, squealing in delight when Éponine hoists her up into her arms. “You’re early!”

Éponine beams and looks into her daughter’s blue eyes, leaning in to smack a kiss to her cheek. “I just missed you so much!”

Vivi giggles, ecstatic at her mother’s early arrival. “I missed you too, Mommy! I had lotsa fun at school today!”

Éponine snorts. She never went to kindergarten—or maybe she did, but she doesn’t remember it. She can’t recall much from the first eight years of her life. Nonetheless, she wonders exactly how _fun_ a day of that could be. Even still, she grins and leans in to kiss the tip of Vivi’s nose. “I can’t wait to hear all about it, monkey,” she says. “Where’s Auntie Cosette and Uncle Marius?”

She puts Vivi down, the little girl taking her hand and leading her through the apartment and into the kitchen, where Cosette and Marius are speaking in hushed voices, undoubtedly about Enjolras’ impending arrival. Éponine clears her throat to alert them of her presence.

“Eppy!” Marius greets her brightly, though his green eyes are slightly panicked. Why _he’s_ panicking, though, Éponine isn’t sure. If anyone has the right to panic, it’s _her_. Maybe it’s just because Marius has always been a little scared of Enjolras, despite the latter never having given him any real reason to be. “How are you? How was your day?”

Éponine flashes him a tight-lipped smile. “It was going just _swell_ until I heard the news.”

Cosette goes over to her, giving Marius a little smile to let him know that she’s got this. Marius gets the hint, going to distract Vivi as Cosette’s blue eyes meet Éponine’s brown, raising her eyebrows.

Éponine steals a sideways glance at Vivi, but the little girl’s too occupied with talking Marius’ ear off about her new book _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_ to eavesdrop. Not that a four-year-old girl would have any idea what her mother’s talking about.

Éponine looks back at Cosette, biting her lip. “I’m scared, Cosette.”

Cosette’s face falls. “I’m sure it’ll be alright, Eppy. Who knows? It might be good for her.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “You know, meeting her dad.”

Éponine pulls a face, shaking her head rather morosely. “I don’t know. It’s always been just me and her. Vivi’s never even _asked_ about her dad. Besides,” Éponine glances down at her feet, biting her lip as she mutters, “he might not even want her.”

Cosette narrows her eyes, tucking some stray blonde hair behind her ear as she murmurs under her breath, “You know that’s not true, Eppy. He’ll do everything for her once he finds out. And just because Vivi isn’t curious about her dad now, that doesn’t mean she won’t ever be. Trust me, I know from experience. She _will_ ask about him sooner rather than later.”

Éponine juts out her bottom lip, petulant. “ _You_ grew up without a dad, and you turned out just fine.”

Cosette sighs, barely able to conceal her exasperation. “There’s a world of difference between _my_ dad willingly abandoning my mom and me because he was an _asshole_ and Enjolras not being there because he doesn’t even know he has a _daughter_ , Eppy, and you _know_ that. If it had been possible, I would’ve grown up with a dad! But he was a dick and left my mom to fend for herself! And here _you_ are! You _know_ he’s going to do everything to make up for lost time when he finds out that Vivi is his, and you don’t even want to take that chance?”

Éponine pouts. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, she knows deep down that Cosette’s right. Whatever flaws Enjolras may have, he’s far from the type to abandon his own daughter. If anything, he’ll definitely want to make up for nearly five years of lost time. And Éponine knows he’ll be absolutely heartbroken that she never told him. But she’ll burn that bridge when she gets there.

The doorbell rings then, interrupting Éponine’s train of thought, and she nearly collapses on the spot. “Oh, _fuck_ ,” she curses under her breath. She’s going to be seeing Enjolras again. After nearly six fucking years.

Cosette gives her an encouraging smile, reaching up to pat her shoulder before she stands on tiptoe to kiss her cheek. “I’ve got it.”

She heads over and disappears down the hallway to the door. A curious Vivi attempts to follow before Éponine calls out to her, quickly getting the little girl’s attention.

“Vivi, baby, come over here!”

Vivi dutifully traipses over to Éponine. “Yes, Mommy?”

Éponine kneels down so she’d be at her daughter’s level. “We’re gonna head home soon, do you have all your stuff?”

Vivi pauses to think about it before shaking her head. “No. But I will get my things now!”

Éponine smiles and ruffles Vivi’s hair. “Thank you so much, jellybean.”

It’s mere seconds after Vivi’s just run off to do as she’s told when Éponine hears a voice she hasn’t heard in almost six years but still makes her weak at the knees, causes a blush to spread throughout her cheeks. She quickly gets to her feet, looking up and seeing Enjolras walking in, dragging his luggage behind him. Her breath catches in her throat when their eyes meet, and it looks like the same happens to him too.

Éponine’s brown eyes find his blue, and she inhales sharply. She’s spent almost the last five years looking into those eyes in her daughter.

“Hey,” she greets rather lamely, mustering a feeble grin.

There’s a slight glimmer of hope in Enjolras’ eyes as he breathes out, “Hey.”

Éponine clicks her tongue and looks him up and down. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

Enjolras laughs in slight amazement, rather disbelieving. “Neither have you.”

The tension that’s filled the room is so palpable, it could be cut with a knife, before Cosette swoops in to distract Enjolras from his ex-girlfriend, badgering him with questions about his time down in Georgia. Marius quickly follows suit, the two of them peppering him with endless questions about what it had been like down there, and Éponine releases a breath, relieved at their intervention.

She almost thinks she’ll be able to sneak out without Enjolras noticing, but then of course her lovely daughter has to come barrelling into the room, her giant backpack—do kindergarteners even _need_ backpacks that fucking big? Éponine’s still not sure—engulfing her tiny body as she shouts, “Mommy, Mommy, I’m ready to go!”

Enjolras turns around almost instantly, looking down at the little girl, and then up at Éponine, blue eyes wide. “’Ponine, you—you have a daughter?”

Éponine stiffens, pulling Vivi close to her. She doesn’t fail to notice how easily Enjolras slips back into using that old nickname he’d had for her; the man doesn’t even seem to realise he has. “Yes,” she says slowly, looking down at Vivi, who’s gazing up at Enjolras with mild interest. “Vivi, this is Gabriel. He’s one of Mommy’s…”

Éponine hesitates. How the hell is she supposed to introduce him? Ex-boyfriend? Long-lost baby daddy? Former best friend?

“…old friends,” she finishes after a few moments too long.

Vivi beams up at Enjolras, dimples appearing in her cheeks as she sticks out her hand for him to shake. “Hi! My name is Vivienne, but everyone calls me Vivi. It’s nice to meet you, Gabriel!”

Enjolras laughs and kneels down so he’d be at eye level with her, shaking her hand, and he’s caught off-guard by how startlingly blue the little girl’s eyes are, somehow so familiar, though why, he isn’t quite sure. “Hi, Vivi. It’s nice to meet you, too. How old are you?”

“I’m four—” Vivi holds up four fingers proudly, before continuing, “But I am _almost_ five! I’m gonna be five on January eleventh!” She pronounces the last two words very carefully, beaming.

Enjolras smiles, a look of wonder in his eyes as they search hers. “That’s very soon! I can see why you’re excited.”

Vivi giggles at his accent. “You talk funny.”

Éponine resists the urge to slap a hand over her face out of sheer embarrassment, cringing at Vivi’s bluntness, but Enjolras only laughs, nodding in agreement. “I do, don’t I?” He glances up at Éponine, a slight smile playing at his lips. “Your mother always liked to make fun of me for it.”

He straightens back up to look at Éponine, his blue eyes having gone soft. Éponine’s breath hitches. “She’s beautiful. Looks just like you.”

Éponine’s entire face flushes red. _Except for the eyes,_ she thinks, but doesn’t say. She’s sure he’s thinking something along those lines too. No need to voice those thoughts out loud and make things even more awkward than they already are.

“Thanks, Gabriel,” she says, her voice having gone rather quiet. She grabs Vivi’s gloved hand, saying softly, “Let’s go, monkey.”

Éponine’s just put Vivi’s little coat and boots on and her hand is on the doorknob when Enjolras comes up to her. “Hey, ’Ponine?”

Éponine turns around, finding that annoyingly, she’s rather short on breath. “Yeah?”

“I was wondering if, um—” Enjolras’ cheeks have something of a faint pink tinge to them, though maybe that could just be the fact that he just recently got out of the cold. “Maybe—if you’re okay with it, of course—do you think we could have dinner, sometime? Catch up on things?” Upon seeing the vaguely taken-aback look on Éponine’s face, he hastily amends, “But only if you want to, of course.”

Enjolras’ offer is unexpected, rather surprising, but Éponine still finds herself nodding anyway. “I—sure. Shoot me a text sometime. My number’s still the same.”

The smile that breaks across Enjolras’ face at her response makes up for all the painful awkwardness. “Alright. Cool. I’ll—” He swallows. “I’ll see you around.”

Éponine nods, cheeks growing hot. “Yeah. See you around.”

She shuffles her daughter out the front door, closing it behind them, and once they’ve gotten outside and are heading towards the subway, Vivi looks up at Éponine, asking, “Mommy, why is your face so red?”

Éponine blushes even harder. “Just a little hot, baby. Let’s go home.”

* * *

Enjolras turns around to face Cosette and Marius once Éponine’s left, stunned into near-silence, rather shaken. “Why—what—” He stammers for a bit in his search for the right words, finally asking, “Why didn’t any of y’all tell me that Éponine has a _daughter_?”

Marius lets out an incoherent squeak of terror while Cosette shrugs it off, saying gently, “It never really came up. You never even asked about her until today, Gabriel.”

Enjolras bites his lip. “Is the—is the father in the picture?” he questions, turning pink. “Or, you know, whoever—you know. Whoever got her pregnant?” He never even thought about the possibility of Éponine not being single when he asked her to dinner.

Not that it’s a date or anything. But Enjolras kind of sort of maybe really, _really_ wants for this dinner to be a date.

“No,” Marius replies, a little too quickly.

Cosette shifts from one foot to the other, looking uncomfortable as she answers carefully, “They broke up before she found out she was pregnant. He—he never found out.”

Enjolras lets out a low whistle, running his hands through his hair. “Jesus.” He isn’t an idiot—every part of him knew that Éponine was bound to move on from him sooner or later, but he never thought she actually had a child. Hell, judging by her daughter’s age, she must’ve moved on from him almost immediately.

Enjolras remembers meeting Vivi’s eyes then, and his breath catches in his throat. Unless…

“It’s just a little crazy, that’s all,” he comments rather vacantly. “Looking into Vivi’s eyes, I could’ve sworn…”

He laughs it off then, dismissing such thoughts as utterly, completely absurd. It’s probably just wishful thinking on his part. Éponine would’ve told him if Vivi was his. Right?

Enjolras glances down at his feet, shaking his head as he chuckles to himself—and conveniently misses the panicked looks Cosette and Marius exchange. “Never mind.”

“She’s a great mom,” Cosette says then, attempting to break the tension. “Reminds me of my own, sometimes. And Vivi’s a great kid. One of the sweetest kids I’ve ever met.”

Enjolras laughs. “I can imagine.” He pastes on a smile that doesn’t quite reach his ears then, changing the subject and asking, “So, how have things been with you two?”

Cosette and Marius drag him into the living room and launch into the details of how their lives have been recently, mentioning a few times how they’re trying to conceive, having decided that ten years into their marriage is as good a time as any other to finally try and have children. Enjolras smiles and nods along, though admittedly, he’s too distracted by his own thoughts to properly listen.

When he’d first gotten that new job at that Manhattan firm, his first thought was just _Éponine_. Éponine is in New York. He’s back in New York. Enjolras had hoped that things would go back to how they were before. Before he left her for an internship that had led to a job he’d ended up loathing. Before he broke her heart.

But Éponine has a _daughter_. A beautiful, perfect little girl who’s the centre of her universe, her sun and moon and stars. She’s not going to drop everything to go back to the man who chose a fucking _job_ over her. Besides, it’s not like she’d want him back anyway.

But he still loves her.

He’s never stopped loving her.

* * *

“Okay, monkey!” Éponine singsongs, brushing out Vivi’s wet hair. “It is bedtime for you!”

Vivi pouts. “Do I have to?”

Éponine glances at the clock, thinking about it for a bit. It’s almost eight thirty—Vivi’s usual bedtime on school nights. But tonight isn’t a school night. It’s a Friday night.

“Okay,” she says after a few moments of mulling things over. “It’s Friday, so I’ll let you stay up half an hour past your bedtime.”

Vivi brightens, blue eyes lighting up. “Yay! Thank you, Mommy! I love you!”

Éponine laughs, resisting the urge to reach out and ruffle her daughter’s hair, with how she’s just brushed it. “Brush your teeth and I’ll meet you in the living room, okay?”

Vivi nods and jumps up, zooming off, and Éponine smiles, getting up to find her way to the living room. She’s absent-mindedly looking through Netflix—maybe she and Vivi could resume watching _The Princess Bride_ —when her phone buzzes in her pocket, repetitive, insistent. Éponine looks down and takes out her phone, and to her surprise, it’s Enjolras.

She picks up, holding her phone up to her ear. “Hello?”

 _“Éponine, hi.”_ Enjolras sounds rather breathless on the other end. Why, she doesn’t know. _“Can you and I—can we talk right now?”_

Éponine bites her lip and frowns. “Well, I’m letting Vivi stay up a half hour past her bedtime, until nine, we’re probably going to watch something…” Her voice trails off.

 _“Oh. Okay.”_ Enjolras falls silent momentarily at the other end. _“I’ll call you back later?”_

Despite herself, Éponine breathes out something akin to a laugh. “Okay.”

She can hear the smile in his voice as he says, _“Alright.”_

She hangs up first, getting the strange feeling that Enjolras wouldn’t want to, and she’s just tucked her phone back into her pocket when Vivi comes barrelling in, wearing her favourite Star Wars pyjamas and unicorn slippers. Éponine holds her arms out, laughing before all the breath is knocked out of her when Vivi jumps into her arms. Éponine retaliates by tickling her sides, Vivi bursting into a giggle fit until she pleads for her to stop, so she does.

Vivi slides off Éponine’s lap and sits beside her mother, snuggling up to her. Éponine smiles at the feeling of the side of Vivi’s little body pressed up against hers as she asks, “So what do you wanna watch, Vivs?”

Vivi looks up at Éponine and gives her a big dimpled smile. “ _Princess Bride_!”

Éponine laughs and hugs Vivi close. “Alright, _Princess Bride_ it is.”

They pick up where they left off at the part with the shrieking eels, Vivi snuggled close to Éponine, and the little girl is out like a light five minutes to nine. Éponine looks down to find Vivi slumped against her, sleeping soundly, her breathing steady and relaxed. Éponine smiles to herself, wondering how she’s been so lucky these past five years, with the support system she’s had. She’s had it rough at times, but all in all, for a single mother, she’s definitely been on the lucky side.

Carefully, so not to wake her, Éponine pulls Vivi into her arms and lifts her up, carrying the little girl to her bedroom, Vivi’s arms wrapped around Éponine’s neck. Once inside, she pries off Vivi’s unicorn slippers and sets them by the bed before tucking her in, picking up a teddy bear Gavroche had given to Vivi on her first birthday and setting it on the bed. Éponine brushes some hair out of Vivi’s face and leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Mommy loves you,” she murmurs. “Sleep tight, jellybean.”

Vivi shifts in her sleep and curls up under the blankets as Éponine gets back up to turn out the lights, silently closing the door behind her and going out and into the kitchen. If she’s going to talk to Enjolras, she’s going to need a glass of wine.

She’s just gone back into her bedroom with a nearly full glass of wine when Enjolras calls her again. Éponine sets the wine glass down on the nightstand and hops into bed, pulling the blankets over her lap as she picks up. “Hey.”

 _“Hey.”_ Enjolras sighs at the other end, sounding as though he’s been holding his breath for a _while_. _“Sorry. I just wanted to…”_ He pauses. _“I just wanted to talk, catch up. I wanted to know how you’ve been doing, and… and it’s been a long time. We never really got to properly talk earlier.”_

Éponine laughs, nodding in agreement even though she knows he can’t see. “I’m good, I guess.” She grabs her wine glass to take a little sip. “I keep myself busy. I’m still a high school counsellor, but I just transferred to a different school. The pay’s better. And I’ve got Vivi.” She smiles rather half-heartedly. “Being a single mom isn’t exactly easy.”

Enjolras chuckles. _“I can only imagine. She must be a handful. But she seems perfect, ’Ponine.”_ He pauses then for a bit, the only sound on the other end being the faint clicking of his tongue. _“She looks just like you.”_

Éponine takes a big gulp from her wine glass. “Thank you. She _is_ perfect.” _She gets it from her dad,_ she thinks, but doesn’t say. The idiot still doesn’t seem to have realised that he’s Vivi’s father. God, for someone so intelligent, he can be so fucking _dense_ sometimes. “I can’t imagine life without her now. She’s the light of my life. I didn’t know I was missing something until I first held her in the hospital.”

Enjolras sighs. _“Well, I’m glad you’re happy,”_ he tells her, absolutely sincere. _“I’ve…”_ He hesitates.

Éponine waits, and when he doesn’t say anything else, she prompts lightly, “You’ve what?”

Enjolras sounds rather sheepish as he quietly says, _“I’ve thought about you these past few years. I’ve thought about you a lot.”_

The regret in his voice breaks Éponine’s heart. “I… I’ve thought about you a lot too.”

The line goes silent for a bit before Enjolras says in slight disbelief, _“Really? I thought you hated me.”_

Éponine takes another gulp of her wine, finding that it’s scraping too close to the bottom for her liking. “I could never _hate_ you, Gabriel. You know that.”

Enjolras sighs, long-winded, forlorn. _“You had every right to.”_

“I did,” Éponine murmurs in quiet agreement, “but I never once hated you.”

And it’s the truth. Even throughout her pregnancy with her swollen feet and aching back and weird cravings, even throughout the late-night feedings, even throughout the long nights when she lies alone in bed just wishing that she had someone there to hold her, Éponine never hated Enjolras. She couldn’t find it in herself to hate him; he’d given her Vivi, after all.

But she’d missed him. She’d missed him so much, sometimes it physically hurt. She would’ve given anything to have had him back by her side.

Enjolras falls silent at the other end for a while before he asks, _“Do you want to grab coffee sometime next week, and then dinner next Saturday? My treat.”_ He stops, before adding, _“If you want to, of course. And if you have a sitter.”_

Éponine bites her lip. She’s sure she could get Azelma to look after Vivi on Saturday night, but she’s not sure about coffee.

“Vivi’s got ballet classes after school on Tuesdays,” Éponine recalls out loud. “Does three o’clock work? For coffee, I mean? Next Tuesday?”

 _“Yes, of course.”_ Éponine’s stomach does a little backflip at the hope in Enjolras’ voice. _“Our old spot?”_

“Café Musain.” Éponine smiles at the memories. “Yeah, I’ll meet you there.”

 _“Great.”_ The smile in Enjolras’ voice is evident. _“Awesome.”_

Éponine laughs softly. She really does miss him.

“Bye, Gabriel. Good night.”

_“I’ll see you around, ’Ponine.”_

Éponine hangs up, downing the rest of her wine before she picks up her phone again and goes to her contacts, finding Grantaire’s number saved under **florida man [blue heart emoji]**. He picks up on the second ring.

 _“Sup, babe?”_ he greets, sounding a little dazed, a little out of it. Éponine’s absolutely certain he’s getting stoned with Jehan right now. _“So I heard from a little bird that your baby daddy’s back in town!”_

Éponine snorts. “Fast work.” She pauses for a bit before saying, “So I think I just agreed to a date with him?”

 _“Damn.”_ Grantaire lets out a low whistle. _“Has he met Vivi yet?”_

Éponine sighs, rubbing her temple and nodding. “Yeah.”

_“Are you ever gonna tell him he’s her dad?”_

“I _will_. At some point. Not right now. Besides, I don’t think he’s even _thought_ about the possibility that he’s her dad.”

 _“With her eyes? You wish. I’d bet my ass that he already has a hunch. About, y’know,_ being her dad _.”_

Éponine groans and curls up in her bed, pulling the duvet over her head. “Vivi’s never even asked about her dad. It’s going to be a shock to both of them.”

 _“Better late than never, right?”_ Grantaire points out sagely. Éponine resists a snort at the pseudo-enlightened tone he affects. She’s still not quite convinced that weed makes you wiser. _“Anyway, listen, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, Ep. Love you, bye!”_

“Love you, too.”

Éponine sets her phone down on the nightstand and curls into herself, sighing. Why does everything in her life always have to be so damn complicated?

* * *

Éponine pushes her way out of the crowd as she exits the train and takes the stairs two at a time on her way up, sprinting on the pavement and weaving her way through the masses, cursing under her breath. She’s ten minutes late to her coffee not-a-date with Enjolras, having just dropped off Vivi at her ballet class. Fuck.

She runs the entire two blocks from the station to the café, nearly skidding to a stop once she’s there, out of breath and grabbing onto the door handle. She pushes the door open, hearing the tingling sound of the bell above the door as warm air engulfs her, and she looks around, seeing that Enjolras is sitting there waiting for her in a corner by the window. Éponine sighs and heads on over to him, giving him a rueful smile.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she apologises profusely, taking off her coat and scarf and draping them both over the back of her chair before she sits down across from him, taking off her cap to put in her lap. “I had to drop Vivi off at ballet.”

Enjolras simply smiles at her, so soft, so _warm_. “It’s alright, I get it.”

Éponine nods, breathing out a little laugh before her gaze trails to the little round table between them, surprised to find that there are two drinks. She looks back up at Enjolras, eyebrows furrowed.

She feels like she shouldn’t, but she finds it absolutely adorable how a faint pink blush rises to his cheeks. “I—I ordered your coffee for you. But you can order something else, you know—in case your order isn’t the same anymore.”

“It’s—it’s fine. My order’s still the same.” Éponine gives him a rather incredulous grin as she reaches for her cup, slowly bringing it to her lips to take a sip. All these years, and he still remembers exactly how she takes her coffee?

Enjolras nods slowly, the tiniest ghost of a smile playing at his lips. “Double shot skinny mocha, right?”

“Yeah.” Éponine smiles, a little emotional. _Fucking get it together, Éponine. Ugh._ “You remembered.”

The way Enjolras’ bright blue eyes light up could put the sun and stars to shame. “Of course I did.”

Éponine bites her lip to keep herself from smiling too much as she leans back in her seat, ankles crossed. “So how are you adjusting?”

Enjolras shrugs. “I’ve lived here before, ’Ponine. I know how things work around here.”

Éponine scrunches up her face at him, taking another sip of her coffee. “Yeah, but you know how different us Yankees are from _y’all Southerners_.”

Enjolras chuckles, mostly due to her use of y’all. “I had to keep myself from making small talk while I was ordering coffee. I just remembered how y’all don’t really like that.”

“Hey.” Éponine points an accusing finger at him as she sips her coffee. “We New Yorkers lead busy-ass lives. We don’t have time for shit like that.”

Enjolras laughs. “I know, ’Ponine. It’s just different from how I was raised, that’s all.”

Éponine grins rather teasingly, endeared. “Still a perfect Southern gentleman, I see.”

A blush finds its way onto Enjolras’ cheeks. “Yes, I guess you could put it that way.”

They sit in silence for a while, Éponine having nearly emptied half of her coffee cup by the time Enjolras speaks again.

“Éponine, I just want to go ahead and say how sorry I am. I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

Éponine raises an eyebrow as she sets her cup back down on the table. “For what, exactly?”

Enjolras shrugs, gesturing vaguely to try to make up for his lack of the right words. “For being such a stupid goddamn idiot all those years ago. I shouldn’t have agreed to that internship without talking to you first.”

Éponine cracks a half-hearted smile. “It’s okay, Gabriel. What’s past is past; it’s not like we can go back and change it.” _No matter how much I want to._ “I’ve gotten over it.” _No, I haven’t._

“Well, I wish I could.” Enjolras toys with the hem of his sweater. “The internship was alright, but it got me a job that I ended up hating at that firm. It was the biggest regret of my life.”

Éponine bites her lip, a melancholy look in her eyes. She longs to reach across the table to take his hand, but decides against it. Instead, she says, “Hey. We’ve all made mistakes.” She tilts her head sideways and gives a slight smile. “Even me. We’re only human, Gabriel.”

Enjolras attempts a smile, but Éponine notices how it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he mutters, “I don’t think _your_ mistakes led to losing the love of your life, though.”

She nearly forgets how to breathe. She’s the love of his life?

My _mistakes led to our daughter growing up without her father,_ she sadly thinks. She doesn’t voice those thoughts, though. There is a time and place for that conversation, and right here, right now definitely isn’t it. “So what about that dinner on Saturday?” she blurts out, wholly unprompted.

Enjolras’ eyes light up a little. “Oh, yeah. I’ve… there’s this new place I’ve been wanting to try. Italian. What about six this Saturday? I’ll text you the address, and meet you there. If your sitter is free, of course,” he adds quickly, cheeks flushing pink.

Éponine laughs and slowly nods, a little smile finding its way onto her lips, genuine, sincere. “My sister. She’ll look after Vivi for the night.”

There’s a hopeful gleam in Enjolras’ blue eyes as he dares to crack the tiniest smile. “Is that a yes, then?”

Éponine nods, more certain this time. “Yes.”

“Awesome.” Enjolras visibly relaxes, releasing the tension from his body. Éponine hadn’t even noticed how tense he’d been until that point.

She steals a glance at her phone screen, finding that it’s five minutes to four o’clock, and she shoots up like her feet are on fire, putting her cap on. “Shit!”

Enjolras gets to his feet mostly out of instinct, his brow furrowed in concern. “What is it?”

Éponine’s pulling on her coat and throwing her scarf around her neck as she says, “Vivi’s ballet class ends at four. I don’t want to keep her waiting.” She grabs her bag, and turns around, looking over her shoulder to give him another apologetic smile. “I’m _so_ sorry, I—I’ve gotta run.”

“Wait, I’ll come with you.” Éponine whirls around to see Enjolras putting on his maroon coat and that Hufflepuff scarf of his—damn, how long has he had that scarf for? He walks up to her with brisk, confident steps, pulling on a grey knit cap, golden curls sticking out at the bottom. “How far is it?”

“Not far,” Éponine tells him as they exit the café. “Just a couple of subway stops from here. Come on, let’s go!”

To her immense relief, by the time they get there ten minutes later, there are still quite a few parents with their children milling about, with some parents chatting amongst themselves. Éponine’s cheeks grow hot as she thinks about the implications of her and Enjolras arriving there together before those thoughts go away at the sight of Vivi sitting on a bench outside her ballet studio, swinging her legs, already in her winter coat and boots with her backpack slung over her shoulders, wavy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Éponine smiles and rushes towards her. “Vivi!”

Vivi looks up, and a huge smile breaks across her face at the sight of her mother. She jumps to her feet and runs into Éponine’s arms, jumping up to throw her arms around Éponine’s neck. “Mommy!”

Enjolras watches rather fondly at the sight of Éponine with her daughter, with the woman pressing a kiss to the little girl’s cheek before lowering her to the ground, kneeling so she’d be at eye level with her.

“I’m so sorry I was late, jellybean,” she apologises, brushing Vivi’s hair out of her face and leaning in to kiss her forehead. “I promise I’ll try to be on time, next time.”

“It’s okay, Mommy.” Vivi flashes her a big smile, and Enjolras notes how the little girl’s smile is identical to Éponine’s, down to the dimples in her cheeks. He startles slightly when Vivi looks up at him, wide blue eyes growing even wider at the sight of him. “Hi, Gabriel!”

Enjolras laughs and gives her a little wave. “Hi, Vivi.”

Éponine stands back up, cheeks red as she looks back and forth between Vivi and Enjolras. “Well, we’ll see you,” she murmurs. “We’ll just—”

“No, wait, let me take you home,” Enjolras interjects, before he stops and blushes. “If that’s okay with you.”

Vivi looks up at her mother and then at Enjolras through wide eyes, fascinated. “Yeah, Mommy!”

Éponine looks down at Vivi, surprised. “You… you want Gabriel to take us home?”

Vivi nods vigorously, ponytail bouncing. Enjolras laughs, endeared by the little girl. Éponine lets out a faint giggle. “Well, if you say so, then.”

“Here, let me get that for you.” Enjolras slips Vivi’s backpack off her shoulders and slings it over one of his own.

Éponine gives Vivi’s hand a squeeze. “What do you say, Vivs?”

Vivi smiles sweetly up at Enjolras. “Thank you!”

He smiles, once again transfixed by the little girl’s eyes. They’re such an intense shade of blue, a colour he doesn’t think he’s seen often in people’s eyes. Well, except maybe his own.

He tenses slightly. There’s that nagging thought in the back of his mind again—a wishful thought, maybe, but a possibility nonetheless.

He pushes it away as soon as it came along. Again, if Vivi was actually his, he’s sure Éponine would have told him. Besides, plenty of people have blue eyes. Gavroche has blue eyes, and he’s Éponine’s brother, so she’s likely a carrier of the gene for it.

“Well?” Éponine looks up at Enjolras, eyes meeting his, and he can see how her breathing becomes rather shallow. “Are we going or what?”

It’s an… interesting way home, to say the least.

It’s as if Vivi’s hopped up on sugar, jumping through the puddles from the earlier drizzle in her little boots and swinging around streetlamps and occasionally jumping in front of Éponine and Enjolras to walk backwards as she talks their ears off about her day, from when she fed her kindergarten class guinea pig first thing in the morning to one of her ballet friends twisting their ankle in class, having had to be taken out of the room by their parents.

They’ve just gotten off the subway train and are going up the stairs, Éponine’s apartment building a block away, and Vivi decides that she’s finally tired herself out, requesting a piggyback ride from her mother. Éponine complies, hoisting Vivi up onto her back and scrunching up her face at Enjolras, cheeks flushing pink at how he chuckles.

It’s quiet then on the way up to Éponine’s apartment, Vivi half-asleep on Éponine’s back, little arms wrapped around her neck. Once they’ve reached the door, Éponine unlocks it and lowers Vivi to the ground, Enjolras handing her backpack back as Éponine tells her to go on. “I’ll meet you inside, okay? Say bye to Gabriel.”

Vivi smiles up at Éponine. “Okay, Mommy.” She waves at Enjolras. “Bye, Gabriel!”

Enjolras smiles. “Bye, Vivi.”

Vivi runs into the apartment and out of sight, Éponine closing the door. She looks up at Enjolras, breath catching when she finds that there are little more than five inches between them. It only hits her now how physically close they are.

Enjolras seems to realise this as well, taking a step back. Spots of red bloom in his cheeks as he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Well, I’ll be going now.”

Éponine nods. “Yeah.”

“Meet you there at six this Saturday?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, then.”

“I’ll see you around, Gabriel.”

“See you then… ’Ponine.”

Enjolras looks as if he wants to say more, hesitating and leaning closer to her for just the fraction of a second before he stops himself, simply nodding at her and giving her a little smile before he heads down the hallway and down the stairs, leaving Éponine standing there on her welcome mat, speechless.

She blinks, remembering where she is and going inside her apartment, closing and locking the door behind her before she falls back against it, sinking to the floor. Vivi runs in, cocking her head at the sight of her mother just sitting there with her back to the door and accusing, “Mommy, your face is red again!”

Éponine musters a little smile. “Just a little hot, baby. I’m fine.”

Is she, though?

* * *

_“You_ will _have to tell him eventually, you know,”_ Cosette says over the phone. _“All this lying is going to catch up to you one day.”_

Éponine swallows, finding that her throat’s gone dry. “I know. I _will_. But I’ll have dinner with him first, and let’s see where things go from there.”

 _“Okay, then.”_ Cosette still sounds rather doubtful. _“But Eppy,_ promise me _you’ll tell him within the next two weeks. You know it’s going to have to happen sooner or later. Why not make it sooner?”_

Éponine sighs. “I can’t promise that, Cosette. But I will tell him. At some point.”

She can hear Cosette’s deep breath from the other end. _“Eppy, don’t you think you’ve run away from your problems enough? It’s obvious that Enjolras still cares about you. I’m pretty sure he still loves you too.”_

Éponine scoffs. She’s had enough wishful thoughts to last her a fucking lifetime. “Yeah, okay.”

 _“I’m serious, Eppy!”_ Cosette says, more urgently this time. _“He loves you.”_

“I’m going to bed now.” Éponine’s voice is hollow, empty. “I’ll talk to you later.”

She hangs up before Cosette can say anything else, and yeah, maybe that’s a bit of a dick move—she’ll apologise to Cosette about it later.

Éponine lies back down against the pillows, heaving out a long-winded sigh. It’s one of those nights where her bed feels too big for one person.

* * *

“Mommy, why are you dressed so fancy?” Vivi enquires, watching as Éponine carefully applies one last layer of cherry-red lipstick.

Éponine closes the lipstick tube and smiles at Vivi through the mirror. “Because I’m going to a fancy dinner, so I have to look fancy,” she replies, smacking her lips and puckering up as she looks at herself in the mirror. Naturally, Vivi imitates her, and Éponine laughs, turning to the little girl. “Are you excited to spend the night with Auntie Zel?”

Vivi nods vigorously, grinning. “Yeah! Auntie Zel says she’s gonna make pasketti and meatballs, and then we’ll watch Star Wars!”

Éponine resists a snort. It’s rare that Azelma manages to cook something without setting off the smoke alarm at least once. She pulls a stray hair out of Vivi’s face, tucking it behind her little ear. “Sounds like you two are gonna have so much fun!”

Vivi beams. “We will!”

Éponine smiles and leans in to kiss Vivi’s forehead before sending her off to put her boots and coat on, slipping on her own boots once Vivi’s run off. Éponine grabs her leather jacket and throws it on over her dress, checking her hair in her reflection one last time. Her makeup is nothing too drastic save for the bold red lip, and she’s clad in her black knee-high suede boots and sheer black pantyhose, paired with a black leather jacket over her knee-length chiffon halter dress, which is in a deep shade of crimson.

(It’s Enjolras’ favourite shade of red. But that’s completely irrelevant.)

Éponine heads out, finding Vivi already waiting by the door, wearing a fleece under her big winter coat. Éponine laughs and puts her own coat on, hoping it won’t be too cold out tonight. That’d ruin the mood.

She takes Vivi’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Ready to go, Vivs?”

Vivi nods. “Yeah!”

After dropping Vivi off at Azelma’s place—she’d promised to have Vivi in bed by eight thirty, but Éponine knows better, knowing that when Vivi said they’re going to watch Star Wars, they’re going to watch the entirety of at least one of the trilogies, because they’re a family of Star Wars nerds like that—Éponine hails a cab to the restaurant. Once she gets there, she spots her date standing in front of the place, waiting for her.

Éponine steps out of the cab after heavily tipping the driver, meeting Enjolras in front of the restaurant with a shy smile. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Enjolras breathes out, smiling. “It’s cold out here, let’s go inside.”

Éponine laughs and nods as Enjolras offers her his arm, and she links her arm through his. They head on inside, where someone takes their coats for safekeeping after Enjolras gives his name for the reservation, and Éponine loses her breath, knees going weak. Again.

Enjolras looks _good_. Not that he doesn’t always look good. But _fuck_ —the guy’s wearing a burgundy suit with a navy blue tie, and from the looks of it, it seems to have been tailored to fit him perfectly. He looks like sex on legs.

“You still clean up good,” Éponine comments rather dazedly. Oh, she’s _so_ eloquent. “I mean, _well_. You—you look good.”

Enjolras chuckles and smiles softly at her. “Thank you, ’Ponine. You—” He looks her up and down and turns red, almost as red as Éponine’s dress. “You look beautiful.”

Éponine bites her lip and smiles. Her cheeks burn scarlet.

They’re taken to a table in a secluded corner of the restaurant, near the back. The hostess smiles warmly at them. “Enjoy your dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Enjolras.”

Éponine’s about to open her mouth to correct her before deciding against it. Once the hostess out of earshot, Éponine looks at Enjolras and laughs rather nervously. “Awkward.”

Enjolras simply chuckles in agreement, shaking his head. He grabs the drinks menu, skimming it. “Champagne?”

Éponine scrunches up her face, smiling as she shrugs. “Sure.”

The waiter comes along to take their orders not long after, Enjolras ordering a whole bottle of champagne—the price nearly makes Éponine faint, but it doesn’t seem to faze him in the slightest. The waiter pours them their first glasses of champagne before heading off, leaving them alone once again.

“I’m really sorry,” Enjolras apologises again, doleful, despondent. “For leaving you. I never should have done that.”

Éponine’s throat tightens as she takes a sip of her champagne. “Like I said, it’s _okay_ , Gabriel. I forgave you a long time ago.” She hesitates before reaching across the table to take his hand in hers. His is so big compared to hers; crazy how they’re a perfect fit even then. “Besides, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Enjolras musters a smile and nods. “Yes.”

“So you didn’t lose me completely,” Éponine points out, giving him a little smile, rather shy. “I could’ve said no. I could be staying home right now. There are a _lot_ of shows calling my name.”

Enjolras laughs, a true, genuine laugh. Éponine’s missed that sound _so_ much; it’s a sound she wants to hear again and again. “Thank you for coming here, then.”

Something inside Éponine flutters at the feeling of how Enjolras rubs his thumb over the palm of her hand. She feels like she’s twenty-two again, a college student giddy and in love for what feels like the first time, instead of the thirty-year-old mother of a four-year-old girl. “You’re welcome.”

She taps her fingers against her champagne glass, searching for something else to say. “So? It’s been almost six years. A lot can happen in that much time.”

Enjolras laughs softly. “Yes, it can,” he murmurs. “Like you… having a daughter. I still can’t really believe it. Not that it’s a bad thing,” he quickly adds. “She’s a dear. I’m just still a little shocked, that’s all.”

Éponine fakes a smile. If only he knew Vivi is his. “She’s perfect. I know I’m a little biased, but honestly, she is the smartest little almost five-year-old I’ve ever met. You know I put her in kindergarten recently?” She laughs, bringing her champagne glass to her lips as she shakes her head. “Everyone told me she was too young. But her teacher says she’s ahead of most of her classmates, even though she’s one of the youngest. They’ve told me they’re sure that she’ll be offered a spot in the accelerated program in a few years, but there’s no guarantee of—” She cuts herself off abruptly, letting out a self-conscious laugh. “I’m sorry, I got carried away. Rambling about my kid. I’m being the worst date right now, aren’t I?”

Enjolras shakes his head, smiling softly at her. It’s a smile he has only for her. “It’s fine. At least you have something to talk about. It’s not like I do.”

“I’m sure you did _something_.” Éponine cracks a little grin. “Any crazy Nazi-fighting stories? Isn’t the South more tolerant of that bullshit? Nazis, I mean?”

Enjolras laughs rather wryly. “I got into a lot of arguments even outside of work. Sometimes it got me hurt. I dumped a milkshake on a Nazi once.” He looks down at his glass, chuckling and shaking his head. “I’d get into these fights with my more conservative relatives over the holidays. It livened up the Christmas parties, me fighting with them about why everyone regardless of who they are deserves fundamental human rights. Like queer people like us. People of colour like you. Mama wasn’t very pleased.”

“With your opinions or you starting fights at family reunions?”

“A little bit of both, actually.”

Éponine laughs. “You haven’t changed.”

Enjolras gives her a little smile. “ _You_ have. Not that it’s a bad thing, by any means.”

Éponine nods slowly, taking another sip of her champagne. “So what else has been going on in your life? Any date stories?”

Enjolras shrugs and shakes his head. “No memorable dates. Nobody made it past the third.” Try as he might, he was never able to get over her.

“Huh.” Éponine purses her lips, rather thoughtful.

“What about you?” Enjolras asks, before he quickly realises his mistake. “Oh, wait, fuck—you have a daughter. I’m an idiot.”

 _Yes, you are, because you haven’t even fucking realised that she’s yours!_ Éponine thinks. The man went to school for six years to become a lawyer and yet he still can’t do the math to figure out he’s the father. _Jesus._

“I’ve done the same as you, really,” Éponine says, shrugging. “There were a few people. Mostly women. A few guys here and there. None of them really lasted. I’ve always been so focused on Vivi, so I never really invested much time in dating.”

Enjolras nods, slow, taking it all in as he takes time to refill her champagne glass. “So, um, if you don’t mind me asking, why isn’t Vivi’s father in the picture?”

Éponine tenses. “I never told him I was pregnant.”

Her answer is a little too quick, too hasty. Enjolras bites his lip. “Cosette told me as much, but why didn’t you tell him?”

Éponine averts her gaze, avoiding eye contact as she brings her champagne glass to her mouth to take a big gulp. “I… Can we not talk about this right now?” Enjolras immediately goes in for an apology before she interrupts him, clarifying, “It’s fine, don’t be sorry. It just isn’t my favourite thing to talk about.” She lets out a hollow laugh. “Especially on our date.”

Enjolras cocks his head, trying to figure her out. After a while, he just sighs and gives her an apologetic smile. “That’s understandable.” He turns the conversation around, saying, “So how’s everything else in your life? I heard Gavroche graduated from college recently…”

* * *

All in all, the date goes swimmingly. They talk, get comfortable with each other without asking the wrong questions, enjoying a great meal before leaving together, just the teensiest bit dazed from a bottle of champagne. Not quite tipsy, but not entirely sober. Well, close enough.

(“The amount of money you just spent on this fucking meal is making my bank account cry, just FYI,” Éponine remarks as Enjolras signs the bill.

He simply waves it off, giving the server an enormous tip for dealing with them.)

“Do you—” Éponine hesitates, wrapping her coat tighter around herself as Enjolras attempts to hail a cab. He stops to look at her expectantly. Éponine’s cheeks grow hot. “Do you want to come back to my place with me? Vivi’s with my sister. Staying all night.”

Enjolras pauses, thinks of his response, makes her think he’s going to say no. After a few moments, he nods in agreement as he leads her into the cab. “Okay.”

The entire ride home, Éponine sits there with her side pressed up against Enjolras’, his large hand resting on her thigh through her coat. His touch sends shivers down her spine, goosebumps erupting across her skin as her cheeks heat up.

Once they arrive, Éponine leads Enjolras up the stairs until they reach her door, her heart pounding, blood rushing in her ears. Before she’s even had a chance to take out her key, he has her pressed up against the door and they’re kissing.

Éponine gasps when Enjolras’ lips meet hers, though that doesn’t keep her from kissing him back almost instantly, arms going to wrap around his neck as she stands on tiptoe to properly kiss him. She shivers, hands trailing up his spine and gradually finding their way into his blond curls, and he kisses her harder, arms wrapped tight around her waist. There is absolutely nothing gentle or chaste about the kiss, hot and heavy and desperate, as if all those years of being apart have led up to this moment. His lips taste like champagne and he still smells the same as he did six years ago.

They break apart for air, Éponine finding that quite a bit of her lipstick has rubbed off on Enjolras’ lips. His breathing’s gone harsh, ragged, his blue eyes darkened as they gaze into her brown, hungry for more. Éponine rests her forehead against his, closing her eyes and breathing out a sigh.

The first to break the silence is Enjolras. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now,” he confides under his breath, still rather breathless. His voice drops even lower, vaguely raspy. “Among other things.”

Éponine quickly gets the hint and turns to unlock the door, impatiently undoing the buttons of his coat before she grabs him by the tie and drags him inside. Enjolras has just locked the door behind him when she pounces again, lips quite literally crashing into his, her hands going to undo her own coat, letting it puddle unceremoniously on the floor, her leather jacket joining it soon after. He does the same, letting his coat slide off his shoulders, and she jumps up, hooking her boot-clad legs around his waist as he presses her to the wall, groaning into her mouth. His hands move to take off her boots, careful not to drop her, and she reaches to undo his suit jacket and rip it off.

“You have too many fucking clothes on right now,” Éponine mutters against his lips, jumping down and undoing his belt buckle, slipping it off and tossing it aside before doing the same with his tie. “Take—them— _off_.”

“That can be arranged,” Enjolras responds huskily, breaking away from her to watch as she nearly pops a few buttons in the process of ripping his shirt open, tearing it off to let it fall to the floor. Before she can take anything else off, Enjolras leans in to kiss her again, robbing her of all breath.

They stumble blindly down the narrow hallway, leaving a trail of clothing behind them as they nearly trip over furniture on their way to Éponine’s bedroom. Enjolras is shirtless by the time they reach her door, Éponine’s dress half undone after she’d gotten rid of her pantyhose, and they somehow find their way into her room, lips hardly ever parting.

Enjolras takes off his pants before he pulls Éponine’s dress up over her head, the two of them falling back into bed not even five seconds later, the only barrier between them now being their underwear. Éponine’s just reached to pull down Enjolras’ boxer briefs, gasping and moaning at the way he’s buried his face in her neck, insistent lips pressing fierce kisses to the sensitive skin, before he stops and pulls away, his breathing shallow, sporadic, laboured.

“Are you sure?” he asks her, his throat dry. “That we should be moving so fast? I’ve barely been back here a week, and—and we had a messy breakup and I _really_ don’t want to fuck up our relationship again—”

Éponine grabs his face and pulls him down towards her, silencing him with a forceful kiss. Once she’s pulled away, there’s that look in her eyes, fierce. Enjolras swallows.

He’s in trouble.

“Gabriel,” she says, breathlessly, firmly, “I want you to fuck me. Right now.”

Enjolras’ blue eyes darken and he nods, just that one single nod of understanding, and his voice lowers even more, so unbelievably sexy it should be illegal when he huskily mutters, “Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

Éponine wakes up the next morning to the sound of sleet ramming against her window with an ache between her legs and a heavy heart, growing heavier by the moment. She had sex with Enjolras last night. (Fucking _amazing_ sex—he’s even more of a sex god now than he already was six years ago, Jesus _fuck_ , and his oral game is stronger than ever—but that’s beside the point.) Yet she still hasn’t told him the truth about Vivi. She rolls onto her side to watch him sleeping peacefully beside her, bare chest rising and falling with steady breaths, long golden lashes fluttering, and her heart sinks.

 _I’m about to ruin everything,_ she muses to herself. When he finds out the truth, he’s never going to forgive her.

Éponine sighs and rests her head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as she aimlessly trails her fingers up and down his torso, absent-mindedly tracing his abs, and for a moment, she can pretend that it’s just the two of them again, like how it was all those years ago. The way they were.

Enjolras stirs then, gradual, blue eyes drowsily blinking open as his arm goes to wrap around her, more out of instinct than anything else, to hold her close. Éponine rests her forehead against his chest and inhales sharply, breathing in his scent. He smells like sweat and lavender and sex.

“G’morning,” he mumbles quietly, leaning down to press his lips to the top of her head, like how he used to do. When she doesn’t respond, he asks in concern, “’Ponine, are you okay?”

She musters a wan smile. “No, not really.” She bites her lip, hesitating momentarily before sighing. “There’s… there’s something I have to tell you.”

Enjolras nods, taking it in as he threads his fingers through her dark hair, so casual, almost as if six years haven’t passed. “Alright.”

Éponine sucks in a deep breath. “Have you ever thought about how old Vivi is?”

Enjolras pauses for a moment to think it over before he shrugs. “Four, almost five.” He bites his lip, thinking back to when he’d left, six years ago. The day everything happened. Éponine had wanted to tell him something but wound up not doing so, and he’d walked out on her.

He stops stroking her hair, breath catching in his throat. Éponine’s heart plummets. He’s already figured it out.

The silence is unbearable as Enjolras processes it, completely stunned. After a while, he asks hoarsely, “Wait, am I… I’m Vivi’s father?”

Éponine sighs and nods. “I kind of thought you’d realise that yourself sooner or later. When did you know?”

“I—I had my suspicions,” he admits after a while. “It was her eyes, mostly. She’s a carbon copy of you except for the eyes.”

Éponine falls silent. Damn. So Grantaire had been right after all.

“Every time I looked into her eyes for the past five years, I was reminded of you,” she tells him quietly, biting her lip and casting her eyes downward. “Hell—everything about her reminds me of you. She’s stubborn. Knows what she wants. Won’t stop at anything to get it. And she also has the _biggest_ heart I’ve ever seen in any kid.”

Enjolras presses his lips together, taking this new information in. After several excruciating moments, he asks softly, “Was that what you wanted to tell me that day? Before I left?”

Éponine nods, blinking back the tears that she senses pricking at the back of her eyes. “Yeah.” Before he can say anything else, she goes on, “I’d known I was pregnant for about a week before. Took, like, four pregnancy tests to confirm it when I first suspected. I was going to surprise you, with this little baby onesie that said ‘I love Daddy!’ and a box of cupcakes—red velvet, your favourite.” She pauses to take a quick breath before continuing, “I was so _excited_ , Gabriel. I know it sounds insane. But it felt like my life was finally coming together. I had a good job and incredible friends and you, my best friend, my amazing boyfriend. As crazy as it sounds, I was happy to find out I was pregnant. We weren’t married, not even engaged, but we were happy together. That’s all that mattered to me. That we were happy.” Éponine wipes at the single tear that slides down her cheek in vague annoyance at the memory. “But then everything changed when you came along and dropped a fucking bomb on me.”

Her voice begins to falter. “I didn’t end up telling you. You left. I went through the entire pregnancy alone; well, not _alone_ , exactly. I had R and Cosette and my siblings. And our other friends, to some extent. But the morning sickness, the weird cravings, swollen ankles. I went through all of it by myself. It was _so fucking hard_ , Gabriel.” Her voice drops to a whisper, trembling. “There were times when I just stayed home all day and cried in my bed. I just missed you so much. I needed you. There were nights when I thought about calling you—I wanted to call you so badly—but then I’d remember what I said before you left. ‘If you leave, then we’re done.’ And you left. You actually _left_.”

She’s crying now, silently, the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I wanted to _hate_ you, but I never could. I loved you too much.”

Once all that is out of her system, she feels as if a massive weight has been lifted off her shoulders. Éponine holds her breath, waiting for Enjolras to blow up, to scream and yell at her—she deserves it. But that’s not what he does.

Enjolras lets out a long-winded sigh as he says, “Éponine, I’m so sorry. If I’d known what you were going through…” He trails off.

Éponine stares at him. “I kept _our kid_ from you for almost five fucking years. Aren’t you angry?”

Enjolras shakes his head, appalled at the very idea. “I have no right to be, ’Ponine. I was the one who left.” He sighs again, eyes growing glassy. “I wish you’d told me. There’s no job in this entire universe that’s more important than you and our daughter.” His head spins as he tries to come to terms with that. It’s too much to wrap his head around. “Our daughter. We have a _daughter_ …”

“Yeah.” Éponine wipes away her tears, nodding. “She’s so perfect, and the most important thing to me.” She laughs then, derisive. “God, I wish I wasn’t so stupid. I was so fucking _selfish_. I should have told you sooner. You missed almost five years.”

“I would have been there for you, ’Ponine, you know that.” Enjolras reaches to cup her cheek, wiping away her tears with his thumb. “Every craving, every doctor’s appointment, anytime you cried. I would have loved to watch Vivi grow up. I would have been there if you had just told me.”

Éponine nods, only crying even harder at his words, so heartfelt, tender, apologetic. “I know. I shouldn’t have kept her from you. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry about anything, Éponine,” Enjolras murmurs. “I’m the one to blame.”

Éponine curls into him and lets herself cry, burying her face in his chest and sobbing as he wraps his arms around her, holding her tight. She doesn’t know how long it lasts, but Enjolras doesn’t seem to mind, simply holding her as she lets it all out, crying harder than she ever has before. He kisses the top of her head when her sobs begin to die down, growing more erratic, spaced out.

“Vivi deserves to know her dad,” she murmurs, gazing up at him. “You deserve to know our daughter.”

Enjolras lights up a little, a hopeful gleam in those blue eyes of his. “May I? Get to know her, I mean?”

Éponine nods, laughing rather tearfully. “Of course you can.” She pauses then, biting her lip. “I’m still not sure how I’m going to break the news to her, though. That you’re her dad, I mean.”

Enjolras smiles, soft. “It’s up to you. And it’s up to her if she wants to call me her dad or not.”

Éponine nods. “Yeah.”

They lie there in silence for another while, Éponine trailing her fingers up and down Enjolras’ torso, her head resting against his chest, right over his heart, as he strokes her hair, soothing, repetitive. His heartbeat’s just begun to lull her back to sleep when he asks softly, “So can you tell me what she was like? As a baby?”

Éponine cracks a grin. “She was such a good baby. Always so happy, but super clingy. She needed to be held at all times. Every time someone put her down, they’d never hear the end of it until someone picked her back up again. I had to put her in a baby carrier whenever I wanted to get anything done.”

Enjolras smiles. “My mama always said I was like that as a baby.”

Éponine barks out a dry laugh. “Well, now we know who she gets it from.”

“What about her firsts?”

“Well, her first word was fuck, you can blame Grantaire for that…”

* * *

Minutes turn into hours as Éponine recounts every little detail about the first almost five years of Vivi’s life to Enjolras, who eagerly listens, soaking up the information about their daughter. He’s full of questions, and she’s (mostly) full of answers. She even brings out a journal containing all the details about all of Vivi’s firsts to show him. Turns out Jehan had been right when he said keeping that stupid little journal would be worth it after all.

Pictures accompany the dates and details, and Enjolras gets to see Vivi dressed up as an Ewok during her first Halloween with Éponine as Leia, Vivi on her first Christmas with a festive red bow wrapped around her little head, Vivi with cake frosting smeared all over her face at her first birthday party. He finds out when she took her first steps, cut her first tooth, said her first word.

(“I still can’t believe her first word was actually fuck, though,” Enjolras comments, admittedly a little disturbed.

Éponine barks out a laugh. “It wasn’t _my_ fault, don’t look at me like that! I _said_ it was R’s fault! The fucker nearly had an aneurysm when it happened, he was laughing so hard.”)

When the journal isn’t enough, she takes to showing him photographs and videos of Vivi. She shows him her favourites—the time she took Vivi to see _Frozen_ on Broadway, Vivi in the butterfly garden at the Bronx Zoo, Vivi playing in the snow in Central Park just last winter. With each missed memory, Enjolras laughs, smiles, even cries a little bit.

It’s five hours later and they’ve showered, the two of them currently in the kitchen with Éponine making some grilled cheese sandwiches for their lunch as Enjolras hugs her from behind, his eyes closed, resting his head against the top of hers. She’s kept some of his shirts and hoodies from years and years ago, having given back a shirt for him to wear along with his boxer briefs; she’s wearing his shirt from last night, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, nothing but lingerie underneath. It’s weirdly domestic, something Éponine hasn’t experienced in a long time now, giving her an odd sense of déjà vu as he kisses the top of her head.

“When do you want to tell her?” he asks softly, wrapping his arms tighter around her waist.

She bites her lip and shrugs. “I’m not sure. Soon, maybe? Do you want to get to know her more first before telling her?”

“Hm?”

“I just think it might be easier for her to come to terms with it after you’ve gotten closer to her, that’s all. If you don’t mind her calling you by your name for a little longer.”

Enjolras contemplates it for a bit. “It’s your call.” He pauses for a while longer before he murmurs, “Thank you. For letting me get involved. You really have no reason to let me in again, after what I did to you.”

Éponine turns off the stove and turns around, reaching up to cup his face in her hands and standing on tiptoe to press her lips to his in a kiss, short and sweet. “It’s the least I can do. She’s yours just as much as she is mine. You’ve got every right to be in her life.” Her hands fall from his face and she bows her head, averting her gaze. “I’m sorry I kept her from you before.”

“Éponine, you don’t have to apologise. What’s past is past.” He takes her face in his hands, gently tilting it upwards so he’d be looking in her eyes again. “I just want to focus on the future. Our future.”

Éponine’s breath catches. She decides to play dumb. “What about it?”

Enjolras chuckles and leans in to rest his forehead against hers. “You know what I mean, ’Ponine. Last night was amazing.”

“Hmm. It was. But it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“But it _did_ mean something. To me, at least. I haven’t stopped thinking about you ever since I first stepped off that plane.” He pauses, lets himself take in a deep breath. “If—if you want, I’d like to be with you again.”

Éponine bites her lip. She knew this was going to happen eventually. She just didn’t expect it to happen so soon. “Gabriel…” She trails off. “I don’t know.”

Enjolras reaches down to take her hand, giving it a squeeze. “We can try,” he murmurs, something akin to a hopeful smile playing at his lips. “We can try to have a relationship. If it doesn’t work, then we’ll stay friends.”

Éponine stays quiet, silent, speechless as she considers his words. She wants to be with him. She really does. But he’d left her once before. It could happen again.

But then again, things are different now. He knows about Vivi. He seems so excited at the prospect of being a dad, to be there for them. And _fuck_ , she’d missed him. So much. Time and time again, she’d longed to be in his arms again, to feel his lips, to hold his hand. Now the universe’s seen fit to give them a second chance.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

Enjolras brightens. “Really?”

Éponine nods, more certain of herself this time. “Yeah.”

His smile is like sunshine personified. “You won’t regret it. I promise.”

She laughs and stands on tiptoe to kiss him again, properly kiss him this time, her arms snaking around his neck as he pulls her flush against him. Warmth bursts throughout her entire body at the feeling of his lips on hers, so warm, so soft, and she jumps up to hook her legs around his waist, fingers tangling in his blond hair. He deepens the kiss, setting her down on the kitchen counter, fingers trailing up and down her spine, craving her, just her. He almost can’t kiss her, he’s smiling so hard.

“I missed this,” he confides quietly into the kiss, making her giggle.

“So did I,” she softly responds, running her fingers through his hair.

She isn’t sure how long they stay like that, but it’s only when his hand finds its way into her panties that she stops him, pulling back and giving him a sheepish little smile. “Our grilled cheese is getting cold,” she reminds him, giggling at the way he blushes scarlet. “Save it for later, pretty boy.”

She jumps down from the counter as he grabs their grilled cheese and it’s into the living room they go, Éponine turning on _A New Hope_ for them to watch. She lays her head on Enjolras’ shoulder as he hands her one of the sandwiches, watching the opening scroll and commenting softly, “Vivi really loves Star Wars.”

Enjolras smiles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Éponine cracks a little grin at the memory of how Vivi spit up all over her Ewok costume towards the end of the night during that first Halloween. Baby’s first introduction to Star Wars. “You should’ve seen her face at the big reveal in _Empire Strikes Back_. It was hilarious. It was why I showed her the original trilogy first.”

Enjolras chuckles, kissing the top of her head before he settles back in, the two of them focused on the TV screen. Éponine resists a crazy little grin as she takes a bite out of her grilled cheese, just happy to be with him again, that they get to be like this. They’ll pick up Vivi at Azelma’s soon. She can’t wait.

Even if she will have to prepare herself for an inevitable barrage of questions from Azelma. Éponine gets the feeling that her sister will immediately pick up on the fact that she and Enjolras had sex last night.

She’s intuitive like that.

* * *

Éponine wakes up to Vivi bursting through the door and rushing over to the bed, climbing on and on top of her mother without seeming to care that she and Enjolras are both still very much asleep. He’s started sleeping over on weekends, a new development that hasn’t escaped Vivi’s notice, leading to endless pestering on the little girl’s part about it. Éponine startles awake at the unexpected weight on her stomach, detaching herself from Enjolras and opening her eyes to see Vivi sitting there, beaming at her.

Éponine gave her a sleepy smile before bringing her hand to her mouth, yawning as she asks, “What is it, monkey?”

Vivi pouts. “You _know_ what it is, Mommy!”

“I’m only teasing, baby.” Éponine laughs and slowly sits up, Vivi bursting into a fit of giggles as she falls out of her lap and onto the bed, startling Enjolras awake. He blinks disorientedly, eyes eventually focusing on Vivi, sitting there right in front of him.

“It’s my birthday!” the little girl hollers, jumping up and down and up and down to properly get the message across. Enjolras laughs, sitting up and leaning back against the headboard, much like Éponine is doing right now as Vivi climbs into her lap.

“You’re getting big, monkey!” Éponine remarks as Vivi curls up in her lap, smiling sweetly at the way her mother embraces her regardless.

“Happy birthday, Vivi.” Enjolras reaches over to ruffle her hair, making her giggle. “Do you want me to make you anything special for your birthday breakfast?”

Vivi pounces on the opportunity. “Chocolate pancakes!” she declares. “With blueberries! And ice cream!”

Enjolras laughs. “Alright. I’ll go make some for you.”

He leans in to kiss Éponine’s forehead before sliding out of bed, closing the door behind him as he slips out into the hallway. Vivi turns to Éponine, a quizzical look on her face.

“Mommy, why is Gabriel staying with us?” she questions, blunt in the way only a five-year-old could be.

Éponine laughs softly, stroking Vivi’s hair. “Because he wants to, jellybean. And because I want him to.”

“Why do you want him to?” Vivi asks, inquisitive as ever. She gasps then, lowering her voice into a dramatic whisper, asking conspiratorially, “Do you _like_ -like him?”

Éponine stares at Vivi incredulously for several moments before she laughs out loud, practically cackling. Oh, _God_ , the way little kids phrase things will never fail to amuse her. After thinking about it for a bit, she nods, a little smile finding its way onto her lips. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. I like-like him, yeah.”

Vivi’s mouth forms a little ‘O’. “Are you gonna _marry_ him?”

Had anybody else asked her this, Éponine’s first instinct would be to deflect, to get defensive. But with Vivi, she simply smiles coyly and says, “Who knows? Maybe I will. Someday.”

Vivi falls quiet, seeming deep in thought. Éponine nudges her, asking lightly, “What’s on your mind, Vivs?”

“Gabriel’s eyes look like my eyes,” Vivi notes. She looks up at Éponine. “Is Gabriel my daddy?”

Éponine falls silent. Vivi’s never explicitly asked about her father before, even with how Enjolras has been spending more and more time with them. Fitting, Éponine supposes, how the first time she asks about him is now of all times. The little girl must’ve picked up on it herself at some point.

She must’ve hesitated for a few moments too long, for Vivi presses, “Is he, Mommy?”

“Yes,” Éponine confirms quietly. “Yes, he is.”

Vivi’s eyes light up. “Really? Can I call him Daddy?”

Éponine laughs, chewing on her lip. “If you want, yeah, you can.”

Vivi beams and jumps out of Éponine’s lap and off the bed, running out into the hallway and presumably into the kitchen. Éponine takes her time in getting out of bed, slipping her feet into her narwhal slippers and trudging out of the bedroom, making her way into the kitchen to find Vivi already sitting at the counter, happily gobbling up her birthday breakfast as Enjolras leans back against the sink, watching her with a little smile on his face.

Éponine walks up to him, standing there beside him as he turns to look at her. “I thought we were going to tell her together,” he murmurs, though there’s nothing accusing in his tone of voice.

A faint blush rises to her cheeks. “She put me on the spot. It wasn’t like I could lie to her.” She glances at Vivi, utterly oblivious as she devours her pancakes and ice cream and blueberries. “Besides, she’s a smart kid. She would’ve figured it out herself sooner or later even if we never told her.”

Enjolras chuckles under his breath. “Well, you can imagine how surprised I was when she ran in and started calling me Daddy.”

Éponine laughs, hugging his arm and laying her head on his shoulder. “What do you say to moving in when your lease is up? Like, permanently?”

Enjolras kisses the top of her head, unable to keep himself from smiling. “I’d love to.”

Éponine looks up, resting her chin on his shoulder and grinning. “Well, this is it. Welcome to parenthood. It’s some tough shit.”

Enjolras casts a sidelong glance at Vivi. She seems too preoccupied with her birthday breakfast to really notice her mother’s potty mouth. Even still, he murmurs, “Should you be swearing around her?”

Éponine snorts. “It’s fine. I don’t think she’s listening right now.”

Enjolras laughs, puts his arms around her and pulls her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “So this is it?”

Éponine smiles, resting her head against his chest and listening to his steady heartbeat, eyes trailing towards Vivi every now and then. “It sure is.” She looks up, a coy smile playing at her lips as she gazes into his eyes. “Think you can handle it, pretty boy?”

Enjolras breathes out a little laugh and nods. “I reckon I’ll manage alright. At least, I hope I do.”

Éponine wraps her arms tight around his waist. She doesn’t say it out loud, but she hopes he does too. She’s certain he will.

She sighs. He’s back in her arms again. And she has no intention of letting him go this time.

Éponine’s gaze drifts to Vivi, and she smiles to herself, perfectly content for the first time in what feels like years. Maybe because it actually _has_ been years. They’re finally together, all three of them.

They finally get to be a real family.

**Author's Note:**

> lemme know what y'all thought!! catch me being a thirsty lil bih on tumblr [@bisexual-eponine](https://bisexual-eponine.tumblr.com/)
> 
> little side note if anyone’s interested: vivi is pronounced “vee-vee”. vivs is pronounced “veevs”.


End file.
